
Fourth Album by Watford-born sister trio The Staves paints a bittersweet portrait of adolescence, grief and ultimately as the title suggests: womanhood.
Raised by storytellers Simon and Garfunkel and Crosby, Steels and Nash, illustrious harmonies are as natural as breathing for this trio. Though parallels may be drawn between them and their american equivilent HAIM, The Staves instead approach love and loss with unwavering vulnerability and tenderness. Track “Paralyzed” encapsulates this as best as any, grieving the loss of autonomy and former self, burnt out by an overbearing partner: “Don’t snuff me out / I used to be magic / I used to be rage uncontained”.
The Staves greatly improved their sound with production by Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon on their 2014 sophomore album. Unfortunately, Good Woman lacks the same intimacy to some degree. The trio self-produced the record with the aid of John Congleton (Sharon Van Etten, St Vincent) late in the piece. This regrettably creates a disjointed listening experience at times, particularly seen in track “Failure” which lacks the texture and weight of the rest of the tracklist. These missteps are not a dealbreaker by any means, but carve away at what could have been a fluid and wholly enchanting finished product.
The group’s newfound maturity shines sunlight through every inch of this record, granting it the introspection found in poetic masterminds such as Big Thief’s Adrienne Lenker. The title track sees the trio begin to question how quickly they relinquish the upper hand: “Surrender is sweet / forgiveness divine / But who will build statues of me when I leave you all behind?”. They are not yet free of self-doubt, and are not pretending to be.
Good Woman narrates the beginning of personal growth, when you start to assess the walls you build around yourself and who you let beyond them. An album imperative for young women, it illustrates the spaces we inhabit between highs and lows, not yet established within ourselves but trying damn hard to get there.
Rating: 8/10
